By Alex Archer, Joseph Nassise
He was once considered one of Russia's so much notorious rulers, and he by myself held the foremost to a mythical Byzantine choice of books, given to him within the dowry of Princess Sophia of Constantinople.
Ivan Vasilyevich—otherwise often called Ivan the Terrible—owned a library full of infrequent and helpful tomes that males might kill for. may die for. however the czar carried the information of its whereabouts to his grave. And it falls to archaeologist Annja Creed, virtually years later, to find the secrets and techniques of the Library of Gold.
When the chance to solve the secret of this so-called 8th ask yourself of the realm lands in Annja's lap, she can't withstand. Armed with a diary of cryptic clues, she embarks on a trip to Russia, the place she needs to someway locate her manner into the very middle of the rustic, underneath the Kremlin.
But Annja quickly discovers she's racing a ruthless KGB agent pushed via sinister explanations. She unearths herself deep underneath the Russian soil in a perilous video game of cat and mouse… Will she be the following to mysteriously disappear from background?
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Extra resources for Library of Gold (Rogue Angel, Book 37)
After witnessing Gianni’s abnormal response, Annja stepped as much as see for herself. It didn’t look all that outstanding to her. only a lab workroom, like all different, even though one who looked as if it would were suspended within the sixties. An outdated rotary cellphone held on the wall close to the door and Annja spotted that there has been a corresponding house for one on her facet, too. Lockers coated one aspect of the room, a wood bench bolted to the ground in entrance of them and he or she may possibly see an old-style chemical safeguard swimsuit putting in a single of the lockers that used to be open. Then she observed the corpse. He sat in a chair in entrance of a metal table at the a long way aspect of the room, his head tilted ahead on his chest as though he’d fallen asleep. His face and flesh had contracted so badly that he appeared like a kind of shrunken-head dolls in the course of Halloween. at the desk in entrance of him was once an open box half-full of wierd blue crystals. A pile of these related crystals sat at the desk in entrance of him. twist of fate? Suicide? Annja couldn’t inform. She understood Gianni’s response, although. there has been whatever very unsettling in regards to the scene, a feeling of disaster in simple terms narrowly shunned. She deliberately didn't try out the deal with, then moved quickly to meet up with the others. Farther down the tunnel they encountered a chain of 7 chambers, every one as soon as coated totally with painted work of art that shouted of a time and an age lengthy handed. Blue guitars danced beside purple mushrooms via a box of musical notes, rainbows and unicorns, smiling solar faces, even slogans like Groovy and Peace and that i Love John Lennon. The lighting on their headlamps grew a piece dimmer and Vlad made them cease to interchange their outdated batteries for brand spanking new ones. They took the time to drink a few water, besides. Staying hydrated was once very important, all of them knew. After a five-minute holiday they persevered. quite a few extra mins introduced them to the doorway of a bunker that should have been capable of carry a minimum of 3 thousand humans. The sight of it placed a grin on Vlad’s face. He pointed to the rock above their heads. “Cathedral of Christ the Savior. Destroyed via Bolsheviks in Thirties. Very as regards to vacation spot now. ” Ten mins later the tunnel unfolded ahead of them, revealing 3 new passageways. just one of them confirmed up at the map. since it used to be hand-drawn and consequently to not scale, they didn’t understand which of the 3 the map depicted. It used to be nearly as good a cause as any to name a relaxation holiday. the 3 slumped to the floor, weary after the lengthy hike throughout the tunnels and fighting massive Russians and rushing trains. Annja sipped from her water bottle as she studied the 3 routes. Her first inclination was once to take the center one, yet that used to be simply human nature, a integrated want to make every thing even, to have all of it be balanced in any case. Neither of the opposite routes regarded considerably various, even though, and it used to be going to be tough selecting among them. That’s whilst she observed it. Over the doorway to the tunnel somebody had carved a crude illustration of a dog’s head subsequent to a brush.